Tag Archives: 100 Word Stories

It’s Snowing

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

“It’s freezing out there Jimmy, and it’s started snowing. Why don’t we give it a miss and go down the pub instead.”

“No chance mate! The boss was insistent, said it had to be tonight, and what the boss says, we do.”

“Suppose so, but why tonight?”

“All to do with the weather Billy. Seems we’re in for the coldest night of the winter. By morning the lake will be frozen solid and will stay that way for weeks. That’s why we have to kill her tonight and get her body in that lake while we still can. You ready?”


Another 100 word story for this week’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers.

The Naughty Chair


“Billy, what is it with you? I’m forever telling you to clean your bedroom and still you take no notice. You know what this means?”

“No mum, please, not the chair.”

“It’s for your own good. Twenty minutes on the naughty chair will give you time to think about doing as your told.”

“But mum, last time I was on it that old crocodile was swimming around.”

“No buts Billy. Any more arguing and I’ll make it thirty minutes. And Billy … best you don’t dangle your feet in the water, that old croc gets real hungry this time of day.”


A 100 word story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt.

A Real Lady



The ignominy of it all! The stares she was getting from passers by, the derisory honking of horns, all so utterly embarrassing. Didn’t they realise she was a classic, a beautiful example of an age when cars were cars. Yet they had the audacity to tether her to this platform and tow her along behind, what nowadays was laughingly described as a modern automobile. Oh, how standards had dropped. If only she could shake off these shackles and drive off under her own stream. Then she would show these philistines what a real lady of the road was capable of.


A 100 word story for this week’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers.

He’s Late

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

I thrust my hands further into my coat pocket and pulled my collar tighter around my neck. I looked again at my watch. He was late, over thirty minutes late, not like him. I looked across the road at the diner, wondering if I should go inside and wait. No, he’d been quite insistent we meet outside.

I spun round when I heard a voice, one I instantly recognised.

“He’s not coming my love. The man of your dreams, the one you were leaving me for, he’s  been detained… permanently! Give me your case sweetheart, it’s time I took you home.”


A 100 word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.

The Gazebo Thing

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook


Marj, come and have a look at this. You’ll never believe what those bloody neighbours have gone and done now! One of those big gazebo things you get from them fancy garden centres. The sort you can have one of those enormous hot tubs in. Before we know it they’ll be having their weird friends round for late night bathing orgies. There’ll be naked bodies everywhere. It’s disgusting! And have you seen the colour of that roof? How the hell did they that get past the planning committee? If things carry on like this Marjory we will have to move.


A 100 word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.

They’re Looking At Us


“I’m not sure Billy. Something about this place don’t feel right.”

“It’ll be fine Jimmy. A quick coffee, a stretch of our legs and we’ll be on our way.”

As we walked in the locals stopped and turned to stare at us.

“What did I tell you Jimmy. This looks like a real friendly place.”

I looked at him in horror. Was I the only one who could see their bloodied mouths wide open, showing rows of very dirty and very sharp teeth? Their mottled green eyes, hovering some good foot or so above their heads, following our every move.


A 100 word story for this week’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers.

I’m Leaving 


She remembered the beginning, how he had tried so hard to straighten her out, to drag her screaming from the abyss. That’s love for you, but it never lasts.  Her  demands for his constant attention had stretched his patience to breaking point. Last night he’d told her he was leaving.

Now she lay in bed watching the dark clouds roll across the sky remembering their final hours together. She’d pleaded with him to stay, all to no avail. She looked down at the blood soaked blade. Now that he was gone, what was there to keep her from following him?


My Drabble Project – Day 31 Story 100